


Bazzykins

by cartoonwritingandsuch



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Also this isn't even vaguely canonical so don't call me out on inconsistencies please, Baz swears colloquially now because he's been hanging out with his boyfriend too much, I have not read wayward son yet (because I suck) so don't expect any mention of it, M/M, Plotline? What Plotline?, They all swear like sailors and I'm not sorry about it, Those are plot holes I poked so the characters can breathe., also don't spoil it or i'll eat your couch
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-14 18:15:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29050506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cartoonwritingandsuch/pseuds/cartoonwritingandsuch
Summary: Simon planned to humiliate Baz, but, in his usual fashion of planning, everything went horribly wrong.Now the entire of Watford thinks that they're dating...
Relationships: Simon Snow/Agatha Wellbelove, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch & Simon Snow, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 15
Kudos: 63





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter One: Mr Bazzykins

Simon.

I wake up from the moment the sun hits my eyelids, it's a Saturday and there's no reason to be up, but I roll over anyway.  
And Merlin, Baz looks a mess.  
When I usually say that Baz looks a mess, it means that his collar is undone and his hair is a little scruffy after Football practice. It's never like this. He'd left the room in the middle of the night and came back a few hours later, slumping immediately onto the bed without cleaning himself up. Which meant that the sleeping Baz I'm staring at now, though tucked up in his sheets and covered by the shade (he'd always had the darker side of the room for obvious reasons), is covered in blood. Whatever he'd eaten is still all over his face and in between his teeth, his fangs still fully extended, I stare in fascination for a few minutes. He's deeply asleep, I can tell from his breathing pattern (or lack thereof) and if I didn't know him well enough then I'd assume he was dead. (Which I guess he is... kind of... it's a weird thought.) His pyjamas are stained too, like he'd tried to wipe his face and hands off on them, he never fed like this, he always came back looking pristine. I sigh.

If the Mage, or Penny, or literally anyone came in right now he'd be expelled, and as much as I hate the git, we only have two years left at Watford. The last thing I want was to have to learn to live with someone else. (That's the problem with children's homes, you have to adapt to everyone around you even though you know you're only there for six weeks max.)

I haven't really thought too much into it before I'm sitting at my roommate's bedside with a warm flannel in my hand, gently wiping the blood off his pale face. This is so fucking weird. Baz would happily kill me if he knew I were doing it. I stare at him as I work, the only time I saw him this close was when we were arguing and he'd peer down at me to make me feel small. Bloody git. Literally. His jawline is sharp and paved with slight stubble, I've never seen him shave, but it wasn't exactly the type of thing you just did out in the open, so I assume he just did it in the bathroom. His skin is quite literally flawless, no freckles or blemishes like mine, but I guess that you have to actually see the sun to get freckled, and Baz is always covered in suncream. That bloody suncream, He hoards the stuff in his wardrobe and it smelt like cologne that only he could afford, repulsive but expensive, I suppose it suits him quite well. His general face shape is long and slender, but I notice a small scar on his neck that I've never seen before, and his teeth.  
His fangs.  
I see them normally quite often (he sneers a lot) but they're never like this, they stick out over his bottom lip in an almost cartoonish way. I run my finger over one in curiosity, but instantly regret it as I start to bleed.  
"Oh fuck." I mutter, shuffling backwards, Baz' eyes snap open. He seems to register what's happening before I do, throwing himself to the other side of the bed.  
"Get away from me!" He spits, eyes darting down to my cut. He could smell it. It was drawing him in.

Baz.

Fuck you Simon Snow. Fuck you and your sweet smelling blood that seems so fucking tempting. I must be stressed, I'm swearing like a normal, but I've never had human blood. I've never been tempted to try it, it always seemed unattainable and sort of gross. ("Basilton, you eat rats." I try to reason with my conscience, but biting a human means turning them, and being a vampire's sort of shit to be honest.)  
But now.  
Oh now I could drain Simon Snow of everything he's got. His blood smells sweet and sparkly, I want desperately to pour it down my throat. Maybe it's just my leftover hunger from last night; The catacombs are getting emptier as the weather changes, and I could barely grab a single rodent before I felt like I was going to pass out. I ended up eating it on my way back, shoving it into my mouth as I was walking and hoping for the best, but judging from my shirt, my hope was foolish.  
"You idiot!" I scream at him, he flinches slightly as I try to hold myself back. He's afraid of me. I hate it. But I hate the idea of killing him more. I grab my wand, words seeping with magic and adrenaline, and cast 'fresh air to fill my lungs' It's a basic spell that they teach First years, and it's only supposed to take you to the lawn, but something goes wrong. But my fangs make my S slur and my magic gets corrupted. I release more power than I intend to, instantly realising why.  
That twat grabbed my ankle, trying to stop me from leaving, and now he'd fucked his whole thing up.

Simon.

I grabbed at Baz as he finished casting, not because I was trying to keep him here, but because I didn't want someone to see him on the lawn and alert the Mage. I knew he was a vampire, and a prick, but most students didn't. He'd give some first years a heart attack if he just ran around covered in blood. Now we're in the Wavering woods, and Baz is staring at me like I've shot his entire family with a single bullet. I shove the flannel into my back pocket.  
"Baz-" I begin, he bares his teeth at me.  
"Fuck you Thimon Thnow." He spits, sprinting after a lone stag and forcing it to the ground, frantically draining it as he struggles for breath. I watch in fascination and try not to laugh at the way he slurred my name. Baz against the stag isn't a pretty sight, it's never a pretty sight to watch the life drain from a creature's eyes as your sullen roommate hunches over it.  
He can't help it, I tell myself, it keeps him alive...  
But it's so fucking gross to watch. The way that the stag gets paler and thinner as Baz drains it, as though it's deteriorating before my eyes. It takes him a good 20 minutes, but eventually he's gotten all he can and sits back. He'd even more covered in blood now, it's dripping down his pyjama shirt like he got caught in a sudden rain storm, and he's staring at the dead creature with an expression that I can't quite decipher. Regret? Sadness? Indigestion? It's hard to tell.

Baz.

Deer blood is disgusting, especially stag blood, but I still drain it until my head feels heavy, until I don't feel like I want to bite Simon Snow anymore. (Well, not in a vampirey way, I always want to bite him a little bit, just to see how his skin tastes in between my teeth.) I turn to look at him, sitting down on the remains, and from his expression I gather that he watched the whole thing. I sigh.  
"You're a fucking idiot." I spit, my fangs are still out, and they're getting in the way. Simon shrugs.  
"You're a vampire." He replies cooly, as though he isn't disturbed. "And a mess."  
Annoyingly, He's not wrong. I wasn't exactly eating with the most elegance, and now I'm covered in stag guts. I move my jaw around a little and scowl at him.  
"Yeah." I reply, because it's all I can think of to say. I don't want to admit that he's right, but it's hard to backtrack when your roommate just watched you massacre a deer. "Are you going to tell the Mage?"  
"I figured that you'd tell him yourself, protect your family honour." He shrugs again. "I've known for months to be honest."  
I should punch him, or bite him maybe, just so he knows what it feels like, but I just nod and stand upright, attempting to shake some of the blood off my hands.  
I'm covered in it.  
"Is this where you come every night?" Snow continues. "Spell yourself over the moat and eat a deer or two?"  
"I don't eat them, I jutht drain them." I protest, Snow laughs the way I slur the word 'just', I glare at him. "Let'th jutht go back." I spit, storming back in the direction of Watford, he nods and follows me like a lost dog. I wanted to just spell us back, spare the embarrassment of spending time with him, but my head felt too heavy, and Snow's magic was always disastrous. He could even mess up a simple 'Fly away home' and we'd end up in Hampshire.  
By the time we make it back to the grounds the drawbridge is open and the courtyard full of students. Snow grabs my arm to stop me from walking straight in. I ignore the way his touch makes my skin crawl with excitement.  
"What?" I snap, he just gestures to my chest.  
"If you go out looking like this you'll send some younguns into cardiac arrest." He responds, a slight sternness in his voice that I'm not used to. I kind of like it. "Plus, the sun's out, you'll burn up."  
I want to snap back that that's just a myth, but we both know that the current heatwave would cause me to blister. (That's just the nature of having pale skin, I'm constantly wearing SPF 30.) (Except today of course. Typical.) We could sprint back to our room, but my head feels heavy and my stomach feels full, if I run then I might throw up. (And that's probably scare the 'younguns' even more, a 6th year spewing blood everywhere.)  
"Well? I can't just wait for it to get dark." I retort, Snow frowns for a minute, then catches me off guard.  
He takes off his shirt.  
Not fully, it's still around his neck, but he takes his arms out and pulls it up so I can see his golden chest. He's more muscular than I thought he'd be, with a generous dusting of dark freckles. (I try not to stare.) "What in Crowley'th name are you doing?"  
"I'll carry you." He offers, I shake my head vigorously.  
"Ha. No. I'd rather burn up. What if the Mage thees? Or worthse yet, Bunthce. We'd never hear the end of it."  
"No one is going to see us, and if they do, they'll just assume that you're hurt. You can put your hands around my neck and use my shirt to cover them so they don't burn."  
It's not as stupid as his usual plans, but it still proves that he's thick. I wouldn't be caught dead with Simon Snow on the courtyard.  
Especially not with shirtless Simon Snow on the courtyard, no matter how pretty he is.  
Alistair Crowley he is so pretty.  
He probably doesn't realise it, but his every one of his features is beautiful, and having him so close really made me want to pin him down and kiss him silly. It sounds immature and fickle, but I wanted to kiss every freckle on his chest and face, allover his body if he'd let me. I wanted to pull his shirt off myself and snuggle up to what lay beneath it. I hadn't imagined that it'd start like this. I don't have a reply for him, so I give him a scowl, but he grabs me anyway.  
"THIMON!" I hiss. I intentionally use his first name so he has to take me seriously. "PUT ME DOWN. NOW."  
He laughs.  
The bastard laughs and holds me higher, so his hands are under my back and my legs, carrying me bridal style as I try to force him away. It's no use, my head is too heavy and he's too strong. (I'm not sure when that happened, he used to struggle to lift a textbook.) His face is closer though. I can see his chubby jawline and pink lips. For a moment I consider kissing them, that'd catch him off guard and he'd probably put me down, but I couldn't exactly use my  
h o m o s e x u a l i t y  
to get back to our room. It wasn't like I could summon rainbows. (That would be cool though, but I think it'd damage my reputation.) (And my aesthetic.) I growl and reluctantly wrap my arms around his neck, hiding my blood covered hands under his shirt.  
This is stupid. The whole plan is stupid.  
But it's probably also the closest I'll ever be to Simon Snow.

Simon.

I'm holding Baz.  
Baz.  
Baz who's always been taller and stronger than me, that Baz.  
My evil roommate Baz.  
He struggles for a few minutes and lets out strained protests, but they're so weak that I start laughing. It's like arguing with a kitten. (Baz full of blood, kitten full of cream, same thing, right?) Then he reluctantly gives in. His face is so bitter and defeated, I relish in it.  
"You comfy there Pitch?" I mock, he glares up at me and tries to hide his face more, unintentionally snuggling up against my chest. He's so embarrassed, his cheeks are blushing as much as they can... actually I think it's the most alive thing I've ever seen him do.  
"Fuck off." He snaps. "Jutht go."  
Not a chance. For once, I'm the one in charge, it's only fair that I screw with him a little. I pretend to slip as though I'd drop him into the moat and he shrieks, grabbing onto me more tightly. Then I look down at him and laugh again.  
"You're ridiculous."  
"Fuck off Thnow."  
I switch his weight onto his arms and my left arm, using my right hand to stroke his nose like he's a tiny kitten. He glares up at me. I'm still at the edge of the moat, if he moves his hands off my neck he'll fall in, he's completely stuck, and still covered in blood. I remember the flannel that's been making a damp spot in my pyjama's and bring it to his face again, scrubbing off the blood as he spits a string of curses at me. None of them magickal. All of them seeping with anger. And I take extra care to stroke his face wherever I can, because I know he'll hate that, the boy is repulsed my any kind of physical touch, nevermind mine. He squirms away in disgust.

Baz.

I must've died.  
Or redied.  
Or undied or something.  
Because right now I was in heaven, and there was no way it could be real.  
Simon Snow is leaning over me, the biggest smile on his face, and gently wiping blood off my chin. I spit swears at him, trying to get him off before I do something stupid, then he uses his thumb to stroke my cheekbone and I can't restrain myself anymore. I let out the tiniest amount of satisfaction I can, a tiny squirm. A sort of jumping up and down equivalent, but to jump up and down I'd have to leave his arms.  
I never wanted to leave his arms again.  
I stare up at him in wonder as he plays with my face like I'm his personal doll, and I don't hate it almost as much as I thought I would. Part of me is dying to feel him do it as he pins me down on my mattress, chunky legs straddling my waist playfully.  
No sex. Just Simon.  
I force the thought down as he lifts up my lip to reveal a fang.

"Ooh." He smiles, biting his lip to mock me slightly. "Sharp." He grabs my face, squishing my cheeks together with a smirk. "I hope you're not planning to bite me Mr Bazzykins."  
I'm either gonna kiss him or pass out. I stare at him like he's mental but he decides before I can, letting go of my face and laughing. I half wish he'd gone for the first option, but if my heart were beating any faster then I think it would've imploded. I exhale and pant for breath.  
"Prick." I mutter, Snow laughs and finally begins walking. I find myself snuggling against his chest again in lovesick exhaustion.

Simon.

I've never had this much power over Baz, by now he's usually thrown me off and stormed out to find his cronies or eat a rat or something. I've never held onto him like this.  
I think he might be in shock.  
That or really really embarrassed.  
Either way he's just staring at me. I let his face go and laugh at his reaction as his face glows bright red again, proudly carrying him over the drawbridge. He settles into my chest, gasping for breath, I guess that he's never been embarrassed like this before. He's absolutely bloody desperate to get it over with.  
So I make it last, of course.  
He idea of even being seen beside me mortifies him, his face when I brush his long hair out of his eyes is something else entirely. Some kind or horrified silence.  
"You comfy there Mr Bazzykins?" I mock, waving to some staring First years and tilting Baz' chin up to face me. His expression changes and he stutters a little, still slurring his S.  
"Th-th-th..." He passes out.  
He literally passes out from embarrassment.  
I burst out laughing.

Baz.

Simon Snow brushes my hair out of my eyes and stares at me lovingly. I know it's artificial, and it will damage my reputation much more than it'll damage his. He has a girlfriend and that sidekick Bunce. This'll blow over in a week for him, but I'm not convinced that my heart will ever recover from it. (Literally. I still get palpitations.) He tilts my chin up to look at his big blue eyes and for a second I think that he's going to kiss me. My head is too heavy and I'm too tired for this. I pass out.  
I wake up a few hours later back in bed, sweaty and clammy in pyjamas that definitely aren't mine. Snow is long gone, but the memory of his words replays in my brain.  
'You comfy there, Mr Bazzykins?'  
He's never going to let me live that nickname down, I can just tell, and if I wasn't so damn attracted to him I'd kill him for it. I should've sworn at him, or cursed him, or kissed him. I kind of wish I'd kissed him. I stand up to go piss and grab Simon's pillow on the way back, climbing back into my bed and snuggling up against it. It's not the first time I've done this, if I close my eyes and focus hard enough on the scent I can almost imagine it's his chest that I'm snuggled up on. That he's reading lightly as he strokes my hair out of my face.  
Just like he did earlier.  
I have a taste of it now, and I don't think I've ever wanted anything more. Not my Mother, not success, not even my craving for blood is usually this bad. The only thing I want is Simon Snow.  
This boy is going to be the death of me.

Simon.

The storm breaks that afternoon, exactly when Penny and I are out on the lawn. A few kids snicker at the earlier events of the day but I pass it off as general friendliness as Penny drags me back to my room. (She never drags me back to her room, and I'm never really sure why.) Baz is sitting on his bed, reading a leather bound copy of Great Expectations, he sneers at us as we walk in.  
"You look like drowned rats." He growls, I roll my eyes at him.  
"Don't be bitter Mr Bazzykins, just because the storm is going to make your hair all frizzy." I reply cooly, both Baz and Penny stare at me like I'm deranged.  
"Don't call me that." He growls again, louder this time, his teeth are bared like an angered dog. He can't hurt me though, we both know it, so I can push him as far as I like.  
"Why?" I reply innocently, Penny still stares between the two of us in confusion, she has no idea what could've possessed me to make me feel as though I could challenge an angry Baz.  
"It's humiliating." His voice is so low, I can barely make out the words.  
"You didn't object this morning." I reply, his eyes narrow.  
"How could I? You had me pinned down." He glares and whips out his wand, casting 'Keep my mind clear, far away from here.' which basically just means he's teleported to the library. I burst out laughing as I sit down on my bed. Penny remains in the doorway.  
"Okay. But that the fuck Simon." She stares at me in shock, I shrug and flop onto my back, she walks alongside me and sits on Baz's bed. He'll hate her doing that, it makes it even better.  
"It's a long story." I shrug, turning to face her. She looks surprised and disgusted. "What's that face for?"  
"Simon... tell me honestly... did you fuck Baz?"  
"WHAT?!" I bolt upright. "I- PENNY THAT'S DISGUSTING- I DON'T EVEN WANT TO- UGH!" I stare at her in horror. "WHY WOULD YOU THINK THAT?!"  
"You called him Mr Bazzykins, and pinned him down apparently. You'll have to explain yourself, because that doesn't seem un-fucky to me." That's not a word. She knows it. I continue to stare at her in shock. She knows I'm straight, I have a girlfriend, why in Merlin's name would she ever think that I was capable of doing something that ghastly? I explain myself, she tells me I'm a twat, I tell her Baz is a git and that he deserves it.

I see Baz at breakfast the following morning and call out to him, just because I can, and it's unusual to see him here anyway.  
"Mr Bazzykins?" I coo. "Won't you be joining us for breakfast on this fine morning?"  
He glares at me and spells himself out so quickly that he drops his bowl and it shatters on the ground, I burst out laughing as I turn to Agatha. She isn't laughing, her face looks almost sad. "Aggie-" I begin, but she cuts me off.  
"I know Simon. I've known for a while, and it's okay." She smiles softly and takes my hand into hers. "I know how hard his must be for you, to tell me, and to tell yourself. But I don't expect you to keep living this lie. We were fun while we lasted, but I know someone else can make you happier than I ever could."  
"But Aggie-" I begin to protest but she squeezes my hands more tightly. We can't be breaking up. It doesn't make sense.  
"No. Simon. I know about you two, you don't have to tell me, and I'm not mad."  
You two? What is she talking about? I've never loved anyone besides her. "I'll speak to my dad and explain what's going on. He won't mind. You can still come over for Christmas." Her smile is so proud almost, like I've just told her something really good about myself, but I haven't said anything. "Good luck Simon." She strokes my face gently. "I love you."  
"I-" I don't know what to say. "I love you too?"  
She nods and stand up, then she's gone before Penny can even sit down.  
"Agatha not eating today?" She raises an eyebrow, I stare at her in hurt shock.  
"I think I just got broken up with..."


	2. Special K

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Does your idea of prepping entail eating more rats? Because we brought you a box of special K."
> 
> "Why the fuck did you bring me a box of special K?"

Simon.

Over the next few weeks things start getting weird, strangers start patting my shoulder and telling me that they're proud of me, and my professors start giving me extra marks because I'm 'going through a hard time' (I keep them, obviously), but I have absolutely no idea what they're talking about. Eventually I stop a boy in the corridor (who congratulates me) and ask him what in Merlin's name was going on, and his response leaves me even more confused.  
"You and Pitch?" He replies uneasily. I stare at him a little in shock.  
"W-What?!"  
"Your boyfriend? Pitchy? That roommate of yours?" My face must've dropped because he carried on talking. "You don't have to be ashamed of it. We all know."  
All of Watford thinks I'm dating Baz.  
This is a fucking nightmare.

Baz.

It starts on the pitch, I arrive late (my hair tie snapped, long story) and coach gives me perhaps the strangest telling off that I'll ever receive:  
"Well, looks like The Chosen One's chosen one finally decided to show up." Is the only bashing that I get. (Which was extremely fucking weird, normally coach would rant for 15 minutes over it and make me do push ups for another 20.) Then people start congratulating me? And Wellbelove tells me that she'd 'always known the spark was there' which makes no sense. There isn't anything between us and there never has been. I'm g a y with a capital G, and the whole thing is just weird. Then finally, in Greek, I get handed someone else's homework along with mine.  
"Tell your boyfriend that just because he leaves it behind doesn't mean he doesn't have to do it." The Minotaur barks, I stare at him in shock.  
"B-boyfriend?" I glance down at the paper, there's a name scribbled at the top of the page but I recognise it so quickly that I don't even have to read.  
All of Watford thinks I'm dating Snow.  
This is a fucking fantasy.

The following morning I make an extra effort to go down to breakfast, and I'm queuing when I hear him call. He thinks it's humorous, he thinks he'll embarrass me, but I find myself smiling a little over it.  
"Bazzykins?" He yells and waves over the crowd, the room quietens down a little. "Over here!" I gather my food and turn to him, a smile on my face as I speak.  
"Coming Snowflake. Just let me grab a coffee." I respond, his face drops. The blush starts in his nose, expanding onwards until even his ears are bright red. Pretty much every pair of eyes is staring at one of the two of us. I stick to my promise and walk over to him and Bunce, who seems more than confused at the sight. The idiot boy is still standing up, so I raise an eyebrow at him. "Sit down Snowflake, you look quite the idiot." I set my tray on the table and he stares at me, eventually sitting back down.  
"What are you doing?" He hisses. "And what did you just call me?"  
"You've invited me over every day for the past three weeks." I respond, taking a bite of black pudding. It's not as good as fresh blood, but it's about as good as vampire friendly foods get (literally, powdered blood to satisfy the cravings, but cereal to provide the vitamin D and actually fill you up, It's like feeding but without the hassle) and I'm the only person disturbed enough to eat it. "Don't tell me the offer's run short... Snowflake." He's furious, I smile and shrug, pushing it further. "Oh, and it's Mr Bazzykins to you."  
His expression angers slightly, he clenches his jaw and grits is teeth.  
"Of course. Mr Bazzykins."

Snow bursts through the door later and immediately starts yelling at me. I don't even give him the novelty of a glance upwards from my book.  
"What is wrong with you?!" He spits. "Why would you embarrass me like that?"  
"You've embarrassed me for the past three weeks, figured I'd return the favour." I turn the page and look over at him slightly, of my own accord, not because he's forced my attention. "It's called sharing, Snowflake."  
"Stop calling me that!"  
"No. I like watching you humiliate yourself, and the idea that dating me could be the almighty chosen one's downfall."  
"We're not dating!" He protests, flopping onto his bed, I return to my book. "Fuck you Bazzykins."

Simon.

This is hell, this is literally hell.  
When I was in third year, Baz locked me out and I had to sleep in the stairwell overnight, I thought that'd be the worst thing he's ever done to me.  
I was wrong. Dating him is much worse.  
He's enjoying this. (Of course he's enjoying this. Prick.) He doesn't seem even slightly bothered by how it might damage his reputation, if anything, his reputation seems to have been strengthened by it. I, on the other hand, find myself spending a lot of time with my head on my desk, wishing I didn't exist. We've been pushed together in every class now, and everyone watches us eagerly as though we're animals in a magickal zoo. I try to ignore them and do the work, but Baz does the opposite. He writes notes and passes them to me, they're all abusive, but he spells them so that they can't be read by anyone else. At first I start keeping them in my desk in a sort of half hope that the spell will wear off, and I can show Penny that we're still as much enemies now as we were before, but I have to stop when they fill up my drawer. He probably writes me five a day now. (Manipulative prick.) There's occasions when I think 'I really need to break up with him' before I remember that we're not even dating, that's how good at it he is.  
He catches me in the corridor one afternoon, hair still tied up from practice, stupid smirk on his face. Students nearby have stopped in anticipation. (What is wrong with these kids? Stay out of my apparent gay love life.) He glares down at me and licks his lips.  
"Big game tonight Snowflake." He purrs, his voice low and mocking. "I expect your presence to support your favourite member of the team." He's smiling, he's enjoying this, I have to find a way to ruin it for him.  
"Of course." I reply calmly, running through my options in my mind. Not too flirty, just enough to piss him off. "You know I wouldn't miss it for the world Bazzykins." I reach down for his freezing hand and intertwine our fingers. "It's a date." My hand is bigger than his, I can encase it within my grasp and run my thumb gently along his knuckles. Baz looks like a china doll that's been shattered.  
It's fucking beautiful to see.  
He nods and clears his throat, taking off quickly down the corridor, I wave goodbye sweetly and walk the other way.

Baz.

I almost didn't go to the game that night, which is even worse when you remember that I'm one of the players, but my heart was beating too fucking fast for it's own good. I whip out my wand as soon as I'm alone and cast 'Echo hallways, empty space, take me far away from this place.', which takes me to the catacombs. I drain four rats before I even stop to breathe. I should be more vigilant than this, eat as much black pudding as possible at breakfast and save the rats for emergency use. I think I'm killing them quicker than they can spawn. I stop after another 2, it isn't working, I don't feel any better, but it takes me another 3 before I realise why.  
It's not blood I'm craving.  
It's fucking Snow again.  
(As in, he's annoying, not as though I want to fuck him... though I wouldn't entirely object.)   
I furrow my eyebrows and wipe my sweaty palms on my training gear, feeling my fangs retract themselves. I'm so hot and bothered, it's not good for me, I'm used to being cold. I pull my shirt off over my head in an attempt to cool down. My forehead is still damp from practice, and with the added embarrassment sweat it's causing the gel to melt out of my hair, making it stick to my face.  
"Baz?" A voice calls in, I want to spell myself out of there, I don't want him to see me like this. But he's already a few feet away, and he's not even alone. Bunce is with him, she doesn't look even vaguely surprised to see me covered in rat. "I figured you'd be down here." Snow shrugs, glancing down at the queue of dead rodents, there's an alive one still in my hand, I put it down and I runs past our feet. Snow turns his nose up at it. "Do you have to line them up like that? It's kind of... sadistic."  
"Well I don't usually get anyone else's opinion on it." I spit. "What do you want Snow?"  
"You took off pretty quickly up there."  
"So? You embarrassed me." I lean against the cool stone wall, and the chill against my back made me suddenly aware that I was shirtless. Mentally I scream, physically I don't falter. "Do you want a medal for it? 'Simon snow: The worst person alive'." Snow rolls his eyes and frowns, he wants to shoot it back at me, but it's up for debate whether or not I'm even alive in the first place. Maybe we could get matching 'worst person alive' and 'worst person ???' trophies. I glare at him and curl my lip. "Now would be a wonderful time for you to get going Snow. I have a game to prep for."  
"Does your idea of prepping entail eating more rats? Because we brought you a box of special K."  
"Why the fuck did you bring me a box of special K?"  
"It's got added vitamin D... I thought it might help the blood craving."  
"That's not now Vampire's work..." I reply sternly, Bunce interrupts me.  
"Then how do Vampire's work?"  
I glare at her, but answer.  
"It's not just about the nutrients in the blood, it's about the taste, and the sensation of feeding. If I don't feed my fangs hurt, I have to pierce something."  
"Okay... have you ever considered sucking on a grapefruit?"

This is why I don't hang out with you Penelope Bunce. You're academically brilliant but your ideas are almost as stupid as Snow's. I glare at her, again, before I speak.

"Leave me Snow, you too Bunce, I need to get this done."  
"Okay... but we're leaving the special K."  
"No. You're not. Take the fucking special K."

Neither one of them took it, I had to spell it back to my room with me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now here's my logic with the black pudding thing: It's blood, and it's cereal. It's like eating a bowl of cornflakes with blood instead of milk but slightly more socially acceptable. Idk man but I watched a 45 minute documentary on Black Pudding production to ensure I knew what I was talking about, so... enjoy.


	3. The Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welp. Baz is gay.

Penelope.

There's a box beside the pitch reserved for family of the players, but coach lets us in anyway because Simon's 'boyfriend' is playing. (Which are five words that I never thought I'd say.) I elbow him to get his attention.  
"Simon."  
"Hmm?"  
"Do know not realise how bloody weird this is? We're here to see Baz, who you're apparently dating, play football... you don't even like football!"  
"Of course I like football."  
"Then why aren't you on the team?"  
"Because I don't like Baz." He shrugs. "You have to admit that these are pretty good seats though."  
"I'm being serious Simon."  
"So am I!"  
"No, you're not. The entire school thinks you and Baz are dating, and I must admit, even I'm not so sure anymore what's really going on between you two."  
"Nothing. Hatred. Annoyance. Him leaving his fucking shoes in the doorway so I fall over them. Nothing that hasn't been happening for the past 6 years Penny." He turns to look at me as though the idea is outrageous, as though it's not Baz he's dragged me out here to see. "Baz and I are enemies, nothing more, nothing less." He sits back in his chair, indicating that the conversation is over. I sigh. The players are on the field now, you can easily distinguish who's Baz by his hair, and by the way that Simon won't stop watching him.

Simon.

I'll be frank, I've never watched Baz play before, not really, turns out he's pretty good. (Better than me, that's probably why he's on the team.) All his movements are pre-mediated, so when it comes down to it, he can complete them at rapid speed. I cheer when Watford scores, Penny rolls her eyes. I want to hit her with a 'I don't like Baz, I like football' again, but I don't think it'd make any difference. Baz runs over to the edge of the stands at halftime. Sneering.  
"Snowflake!" He shouts more at me than to me, but it doesn't come out as mean as he wants it to. 

He gestures me over to him, I go.

"You actually came." He scoffs. His hair is falling out of it's ponytail, sticking to his sweaty face. I absentmindedly tuck a piece behind his ear as I shrug, leaning over the railing. I have a couple of inches on him when I'm up here, it's kind of weird to see him from a different perspective.  
"You invited me. Don't tell me the offer's run short."  
Baz laughs, but only for a second. It's a dry, sharp laugh that stays in the back of my head.  
"The offer was never really there." He responds, his voice is low. "I can't believe that coach let you into the family box. He doesn't even let Fiona into the family box."  
"Now to be fair, I don't think I'd let Fiona into the family box, or into Watford for that matter." This is easily the most civilised conversation that we've ever had, especially about Baz's family, normally at least one of us is yelling by now, and it's usually me.  
"Your hair looks a right mess." Penny interrupts from behind us, Baz suddenly glares at me.  
"You brought your sidekick then." He rolls his eyes and looks up at her.  
"Hello Bunce."  
"Hello Basilton. Your hair looks a right mess." Penny repeats, Baz shrugs.  
"That's what happens when you're as successful athletically as you are academically. You actually play a sport."  
Penny scoffs this time and pushes me aside.  
"Just turn around, it'll get in your eyes if you keep playing with it like that." She takes out the hair tie and smooths it out with her hands, then Penny is plaiting Baz' hair, and Baz is letting her do it.

It's the second strangest thing that's happened all day.

Baz.  
He came.  
He actually came for Crowley's sake.  
I see him as I'm warming up, and go to confront him at halftime. He tells me that he likes football, but I still pretend that he came specifically to watch me, and Coach tells me afterwards that it's the best game he's ever seen me play. He calls Snow my good luck charm, I smile slightly at the idea. I head back up to my room to shower feeling strangely elated (I don't like showering with my teammates, it's just weird now that they know I'm gay, they think I'm coming onto them if I even so much as take my hair out) and it's almost a shame to see that Snow isn't there, I think I'd kiss him on the spot about now, no matter how sweaty and gross I feel. Then I see the package that's been shoved under our door, it's unusual to get post directly to our door, even more so in the middle of the day, but the name on it makes my heart sink. It's my full name, which means it's a letter from my Father, and I already know exactly how it's going to read. I sigh and sit down on my bed, spelling it open, it's lazy, but I don't care, reading it carefully.

'Basilton.  
Your Aunt heard the news from an acquaintance this afternoon, and did the polite thing to do, informing me immediately. Unlike you.

I don't know what kind of grotesque thoughts that boy has put into your head, but I know that you're a good man, and that you're not a freak like him, you're just sick. You'll find a novel attached, I expect you to read it cover to cover and take it in. Everything it tells you and everything it shows you. This isn't your path Basilton, it's one that brings dishonour upon your heritage and shame to our family. Just the idea is already enough to start a rumour circulating.

What would your Mother think, Basilton, now that you've tortured her peace by galivanting with him? Do you think she'd be proud? That her only son is in cahoots with a...'

I skip over the word. It'd plagued my head for years before I accepted it, but I wasn't ready to see it again. Not like this. I sigh and carry on, even though there's very little left to read.

'I don't know what you were thinking my boy, you've left your stepmother vividly upset and I must admit that even I find myself maddened by your actions. I expect you to not disappoint us again like this in the future.

Sincerely,

Malcom Grimm.'

He'd signed his name, he hadn't even been willing to sign it as though he were related to me, I bite my lip and glance down at the package. I don't want to open it, but Snow's a nosey bastard and he'll open it if I don't. I spell it over and unpick the tape, shaking the book out.

'Homosexuality: The pathway to dishonour.'

It's like he just grabbed the most homophobic book he could find on short notice and sent it over to me, even the cover is a woman in lingerie, I throw it aside in disgust and lean back to read the letter again.

'What would your Mother think, Basilton, now that you've tortured her peace by galivanting with him? Do you think she'd be proud? That her only son is in cahoots with a...'

Simon.

Baz looks visibly upset when I walk in, it's really weird, the only real emotion I've ever seen him express is anger. Unless you count plotting as an emotion. (Is plotting an emotion? Note: Ask Penny.) It'd been a few hours since the game finished, and I hadn't expected him to join the celebratory meal that his teammates were hosting, but he was still in his kit. It was like he'd got back, sat down, and not moved yet. Even his hair is still plaited as he buries his head into a letter.  
"Who's that from?" I raise my eyebrow as I sling my bag under my bed, I expect a witty comeback, but Baz just replies.  
"My Father." He mutters, his voice is quiet, disheartened maybe.  
"Really?" I sit down at his desk, he doesn't even flinch. "What does it say?"  
"That I'm disgusting." Baz shrugs, offering me the letter, I take it hazardly and scan through. I've never read a letter from his Father before (obviously) but it seems a little harsh.  
"What's the book?"  
"Something about how Homosexuality is unnatural, not much of a page turner. I threw it over there somewhere if you want to check it out." He's so cool but his voice sounds hurt, I guess that he's never received a telling off like this before. (And that he hadn't anticipated that his stupid practical joke would go this far. Even I was surprised that word had gotten out of the Watford grounds.) I sigh and furrow my eyebrows.  
"Baz?" I say, it's genuine.  
"Snow." He replies, it's sarcastic.  
"It's obviously bothering you. Why don't you just write back to your Father, tell him the truth, and we'll end this entire charade now. Calmly explain that it was a way to embarrass me and you're as straight as a line. It's all a joke anyway, it's not like any of this absolute bullshit has been real." I sigh and refold up the letter, placing it on his desk, beside his favourite pen. (I only know it's his favourite pen because I knocked it out of the window once and he made me go and fish it out of the grass even though I was in pyjamas... actually that might be why it's his favourite pen.) I begin playing with things as I continue talking, expecting him to interrupt and snap at me to put something down. "You got what you wanted, you've successfully ruined my reputation and my relationship. I'm sure your Father would be delighted to hear that." He's gone quiet, but not the usual plotting against me type of quiet, or even his signature 'fuck off Snow, I'm trying to think' quiet, something else entirely. I turn around to face him and he's crying.

Baz is crying.

It's an angry cry, that's for sure, his brows are furrowed and his lip is quivering, but there's still tears running down his cheeks. He tries to keep his expression stern but it doesn't work, there's a small exhale, then he sobs. I watch him for a few seconds, what do I say? I normally hug Penny when she's upset but I don't think I can hug Baz. He hates affection of any kind, I can't imagine snuggling into my chest sounds any kind of appealing to him. I don't realise how his Father's letter could've hurt him so much, I mean sure, it says some pretty arsey things about homosexuality, but it's not like Baz is gay...

My expression softens. Maybe if I just ask him he won't bite my head off.  
"Baz?" He looks up at me, I assume that's all the response I'm going to get so I push onwards, lowering my volume as much as I can. "A-Are you gay?"  
Baz buries his head into his duvet and cries, I don't quite know what to make of it except to take that as a yes.

Baz is gay.  
Baz is gay and he didn't tell me.  
No, Baz is gay and I didn't realise, he doesn't owe me anything. He doesn't have to tell me if he doesn't want to. I look down on him silently, his whole body is shaking as he sobs, it's almost childish in a way, like the sort of a tantrum that a toddler throws when it's grown up emotions get too complex for it's brain, more a cry of confusion than of sadness. For a moment my chest begins to hurt at the sight of him, he looks so lost, so broken, so afraid...

I might accidentally be dating Baz Pitch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Making Baz cry honestly hurts my soul but also traditional families + H o m o s e x u a l i t y isn't a good mix. (Believe me, I know.) Also Simon is a big softy and he will look after anyone who is crying. (I would personally love to cry into Simon Snow's chest if the occasion were to arise.)


	4. Malcom Grimm's cheap gravestone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simon is a softy, Baz needs a hug. (Like seriously, just hug him for several hours please.)

Simon.

Baz cries for about 20 minutes straight, then turns his head onto it's side. He's still whimpering, but it's not a full blown sob. I've never seen anyone cry so hard, not even I've ever cried so hard, but now he's just staring at me.  
"Baz." I sigh, he doesn't say anything. His face is blotchy, and his are eyes puffy and swollen. "Baz," I begin again. "Do you need a hug?" He stares at me for a few seconds like I'm mental. I find it best to elaborate. "It's just that when Penny or Aggie are upset I usually hug them, and I figured you'd probably say no but it seemed impolite to just leave you."  
"Since when do you care about being impolite?" Baz growls, but his voice quivers as he says it, as though he's seconds away from another meltdown. I furrow my eyebrows.  
"Since you were upset Baz. You're an arse, and a git, and I hate you, but you're upset. Not even I can justify leaving you like this." I sigh. "Just answer the question, Do you need a hug..?"  
He stares at me for another few seconds until his expression falters and he sobs again, only then does me move his head.  
He nods.

I hadn't mentally prepared for this.

"Oh." I continue (stupidest reaction ever), "Okay... can I sit on your bed?"  
Baz nods, I scramble up there. The mattress is more comfortable than mine, which seems quite frankly rude considering that our beds are the same age. I shuffle up so my back is against the headboard, and pat the spot behind me. Baz doesn't react.

Baz.

Snow wants something from me, but I'm not sure what. He's sitting on my bed, back against the headboard, and patting the spot beside him. I must look confused as hell because he asks a stupid question.  
"When's the last time someone held you?" It's genuine, I clench my jaw and try my best to snap at him, but it's exceptionally hard when you can't stop crying.  
"I've been hugged before Snow. I'm not fucking little orphan Annie." I retort, but my voice breaks halfway through.  
"No. Baz, not hugged, held. When's the last time that someone held you and made you feel safe?"  
I don't have an answer for that, and Snow knows it. It's only a matter of time before he uses it against me I'm sure. But for now, he's patting the spot beside him on the bed again.  
"What?"  
"Sit here. Beside me."  
"Why?"  
"So I can hug you."  
I sigh and make my way over silently, the beds aren't all that wide and I can feel Snow's thighs against mine, I force the thought down. I've spent a good amount of time since I was 13 thinking about this, about being gay and Simon Snow, and even more about being gay for Simon Snow. I just kind of figured that I'd never tell my Father because I knew he'd be a homophobic bastard, but that didn't explain why it hurt so much. The truth was out, but the truth had been out for weeks, the only one who didn't realise it was Simon.

Simon.

Baz has never done this before, I can tell. He keeps his back straight and just stares down at his hands as he sits beside me. He's shaking slightly as he tries to catch his breath. I sigh.  
I can't believe I'm about to do this.  
I put put my arm around Baz' shoulders and cuddle up to him. He turns to look at me in confusion and I gesture to my shoulder.  
"What?" His voice is quiet and soft.  
"Rest your head on my shoulder."  
"Why?"  
"Because it makes it easier for me to hug you." Baz stares at me for a few more quiet seconds, then silently settles his head into my shoulder, I take his hand into my own and run my thumb over it as I begin to talk. "Y'know Baz, most people won't give a shit that you're gay. Like they literally will not care, not in the real world. If your family want to be a pack of bitches then that's not your fault, your Father can just have a cheap gravestone." There's a noise emits from deep within Baz's chest, maybe it's a laugh, but I comes out as more of a single short breath. I continue. "I mean, everyone has at least one gay cousin, that's just science. There's a good chance I have a gay cousin out there somewhere."  
"That's not true." Baz mutters.  
"Uh. Yes it is." I reply defensively. "There's like statistics about it and stuff. At least one cousin in your family has to be gay. It's like Russian roulette to see who it's going to be." Baz moves his head down so his face is snuggled into my chest, he's practically laying atop of me but I don't mind, it's essentially how Penny cries. I wonder whether it's a sign to stop talking, but continue anyway. "At least everyone kind of knows anyway, I don't know if that makes you feel any better, but like, at least your teammates won't be creepy with you, right? Because it's not like you have to just flat out tell them anymore... And your apparent boyfriend is like super hot." I expect him to laugh as I compliment myself, but he doesn't, his eyes are closed and he's breathing slowly.  
He's either asleep or dying, both are fine I guess.  
I brush a stray hair out of his face and sigh. He smells like sweat, and hair gel, but mostly he smells like Baz. Earthy and grounded with just a hint of smoke and... metal?  
No, blood.  
It's not that I've forgotten he's a vampire (he was literally down in the catacombs draining rats earlier), it's just that when he's this close he doesn't feel as cold or as hostile as he usually does, he almost feels more human. I sigh again and gently stroke his hair, there's no need for me to show him any kind of affection, but he needs the rest, and I don't mind.

Penelope.

This is ridiculous. It's nearly noon! Where is that boy? I know exactly where he is, he's still in his room because he's overslept his alarm, as he always does. I bang on the door again.  
"Simon! Get your arse out here now!" I press my face against the wood. "I've already told three Professors that you're sick I don't know how long I can keep this up for! They're beginning to think that you've died in there!" I sigh and hold my hand to the door, I hate to invade his privacy, but also, he's being a twat, so I cast 'open sesame' and the door unlocks itself. "Simon. This is impressive even for you." I begin, but he isn't in his bunk as he usually is.

Baz.

Bunce has the audacity to unlock our door and let herself in. I open one eye to glare at her sleepily, I don't remember falling asleep, but I'm still so exhausted and comfortable that I don't want to get up. Snow isn't even here, his bunk is empty. He probably left early for breakfast so he could eat more. (That boy eats like a savage, if he wasn't so damn cute I'd bully him for it.) I don't even know what time it is, but presumably it's before 9, I don't imagine for half a second that I could've overslept. Bunce is staring at me as though I'm deranged, and I'm not really sure why. (Has the vampire thing just kicked in? Took you long enough.) I groan and close my eyes again, settling back down into my pillow. It's warmer, and harder than I expect it to be, but so comfortable. Bunce seems to finally stutter out her sentence.  
"What the fuck..."  
"Hi Penny." Snow yawns, wrapping his arms around the curve of my back. It suddenly comes crashing back to me, my father's letter, coming out to Snow, snuggling onto his chest. That's why I'm so warm, I'm still cuddled up against him, and yet he barely acknowledges it. "You're up early."  
"It's 11:30!" Bunce replies. "You've already missed all your classes this morning!"  
"I have?" Snow rolls his neck and yawns again, he's never been much of a morning person. His blue eyes flutter open and he smiles softly at me. "Hello Bazzy."

Nope. I can't do it. I don't want to leave him but I have to get out of here. Now. I force his hands off my back and sit upright, then I'm gone. Sprinting down the stairs and not stopping until the warmth of Simon Snow has seeped out of my veins and into the open air. Then I inhale. Then I cry again.  
I was so close.  
He was so damn close.  
And now he'll never do it again.

That's a lie, he'd probably do it if he saw me crying now, but I don't want him to. I don't want him to hug me out of pity, I want him to hold me out of love. I've been running for too long on an empty stomach now, I have to sit down to vomit, which makes a more than unpleasant sight for an approaching Wellbelove. (My vomit always has blood in it, it's disgusting.)  
"Jeez Baz." She frowns, crouching down to me and offering me a handkerchief to wipe my face, I take it off her gratefully. Wellbelove and I don't really have that much in common except for both having immaculate hair and rich families (not that you could tell now, it's still in Bunce's stupid plait), but she sits down beside me anyway. "Penny said that you were sick, but I assumed that just meant you'd overslept."  
I retch again before I speak, it doesn't deter her.  
"What do you want Wellbelove? You didn't just follow me here to watch me vomit."  
"There's that sweetheart's dance on the 21st, I guessed that you'd want to ask Simon..."  
"Snow and I aren't sweethearts." I interrupt, but it hurts to force the words out.  
"Partners then, whatever you call yourselves."  
"We're not even dating. I don't know why everyone thinks that." I blink at her a few times, my head feels dizzy. "Aren't you going to ask him yourself?"  
"He's not my boyfriend." Agatha shrugs, pulling out a small notepad, evidently she's not taking 'we're not dating' for an answer, and it appears most of Watford isn't at this point either. "So should I sign you both up for the chicken or..?"  
"No. I'll take the steak. Rare."  
"Really? Why? It's disgusting."  
"I enjoy the taste."  
"Of blood?"  
"It takes a fine tuned palate I'll admit." I sigh, wiping sweat off my forehead, I think the vomiting has passed now, but I still feel gross.  
"Okay..? And for Simon?"  
"Hell if I know, ask him yourself."  
She closes the book and frowns at me.  
"Are you sure that you're okay? You're acting weird."  
"I'm fine Wellbelove, just let me be." I spit, she nods and leaves. I begin dragging myself back up to my room, desperately hoping that Snow will be gone.

Simon.

Penny chews at me for 20 minutes about missing classes (I expected that), but she doesn't even mention the Baz thing. (I didn't expect that.) I can easily explain it, Baz was exhausted and upset, so I was just making sure he was okay. It's not like she walked in on us making out (gross) or anything even vaguely non-platonic. As much as I loathe him, I still live with him, and I didn't want him to keep me up sobbing all night. Plus, I felt sorry for the guy, his Dad is a homophobic bastard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Baz canonly likes musicals now because I'm not sure I can go back from that. (I did consider making it an argument about Pip from Great Expectations, but I thought the little Orphan Annie thing had funnier connotations.)


	5. Soggy sock moist floor sponge Baz

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We believe in Simon and Baz wearing each-other's clothes supremacy in this household (and if you disagree then you can leave).

Simon.

Baz arrives late to lunch, but it's still nice to see him, I half expected him to have taken off and never come back to Watford at the sheer embarrassment of being caught hugging me. (I'm not that embarrassing, Penny says that my hugs are very good, some of the best even.) He looks tired and like he's been crying again, but there's something else.

He's wearing a hat.

Not just any hat, and not even the type of hat you'd expect him to wear, it's a grey beanie that he's pulled down to cover his hair, so that only the slightest bit can be seen out of the back. It's not just a hat.

That bastard stole my hat.

I gesture him over but I don't call out to him, it's lost it's effect now that everyone thinks we're dating anyway, and he's presumably feeling shit enough. He sits down opposite me and doesn't say anything.  
"You missed all your classes." Penny plays with her soup as she addresses him. "Apparently you were last seen throwing up on the lawn?" Baz shrugs. His face is tired, his eyes are puffy again.  
"I overslept." He replies quietly, beginning to slice his chicken. He doesn't need to, he could easily rip it apart or swallow it whole, but that wouldn't be very subtle.  
"Funny that." Penny raises an eyebrow between the two of us. "Speaking of sleeping..."  
I roll my eyes and sigh.  
"Penny. Whatever you saw, or whatever you think you saw, has a perfectly reasonable explanation. Assuming that you saw anything at all, which I don't assume that you did..."  
"My Father wrote to me about Snow and I's supposed cahoots." Baz interrupts my rambling. "He's brutally disappointed and I'm a disgrace apparently."  
Penny's expression softens slightly. She doesn't want to admit that she's sympathetic towards Baz, but that's a pretty hard letter for anyone to receive.  
"Did he say that?"  
"Well, not in so many words, but yes." Baz shrugs. "Snow was reading through it with me."  
"It looked like a little more than reading through..."  
"Fine, I was crying, Bunce." He snaps, Penny flinches a little in surprise. "My Father made me cry and Snow was trying to comfort me. Do you want a medal for your sleuthing? A ribbon to pin to your jacket?" He shoves a forkful of chicken into his mouth as though he's reinforcing his point, but Penny's expression has already softened.  
"He made you cry? The letter was that bad?" She turns to me and I nod sadly.  
"Yeah. It's pretty ghastly stuff."  
"Oh." She sighs, her face is solemn now. "I'm sorry I accused you of sleeping with Baz, Simon."  
Baz doesn't say anything, he just eats in silence. Eventually I call him out on the hat.

"So did you just compulsively feel the need to steal my beanie or..?"  
Baz doesn't reply, not really, he just shrugs. There's a lock of hair poking out from under the beanie slightly, I tug on it playfully so it falls in his face (to get his attention). He hurriedly ticks it behind his ear and doesn't make eye contact, but I've already seen it.  
It's... curly.  
Okay maybe curly is an overstatement, but it's certainly got more wave in it than it usually has. I smile a little.  
"Bazzykins?"  
"Hmm?"  
"Why are you wearing that hat?"  
"It's cold out."  
"It's June."  
"Okay fine, I'm cold in." That doesn't make sense and he knows it, he's just trying to get the conversation over with. "After 6 years of living together I think I can justify borrowing a hat Snowflake."  
The stupid pet names have been so overused now that they're just normal. It doesn't even surprise me anymore, Baz, on the other hand, is about to get the surprise of his life. I lean forwards and run my finger along the hem of the wool, as though I'm admiring it, then, in one swift motion, before he can react, I pull it off his head. An abundance of black curls fall out, all fluffy and about as unBaz-like as possible. He glares at me. Penny bursts out laughing so loudly that it alerts the surrounding students to his embarrassment, Baz is sneering at me with such anger that I think he's trying to make me explode on the spot. Gritting his teeth and breathing heavily.

Either that or he's about to cry again.

"What happened to you?" I gasp through my giggles, Baz is clearly not amused.  
"Bunce's stupid plait happened to me." He replies, more of a growl than a response. "I can't brush it out."  
I glance over at Penny, she's just staring in surprised shock, Baz looks like he wants the world to swallow him up.

Baz.

This is so stupid. Even for something that came out of Snow's brain it's stupid. We're sitting on his bunk and he's sectioning off my hair.

"I told you, you can't brush it out, I already tried that." I spit at him, he rolls his eyes. He knows I can't hurt him anywhere as much as I'd like to. (Stupid anathema!)  
"You can't just brush curly hair out anyway. You have to use a detangler." He replies, running his hand through his stupid curly hair as though it's a demonstration.   
His stupid cute curly hair.  
I always assumed that Snow didn't use anything on his hair, because it always seemed to be a mess anyway, but apparently I was wrong. He passes me a towel to protect my jumper and begins to spray my hair. This is awful, now I'm going to smell like him for weeks, and I've only just got the scent off of my sheets. If I let myself live like I'd like to, curling up against Snow and pretending it's all real, I'll only end up miserable. He has this spectacular way of turning every great thing that's ever happened to me into his own personal train wreck, and I'm sure that this will be no exception. He's brushing through my hair now, I can feel it, I close my eyes and sigh silently.  
"Baz?" Snow interrupts my thoughts.  
"What?" I respond sharply.  
"I'm sorry about your Dad... him being an absolute dick and all... I'm sure he'll get over it and you can bring home a real boyfriend... I mean... if you wanted to that is..." He rambles like this constantly. It's cute, but really annoying.  
"Shut up Snow. You're embarrassing yourself." I snap, straightening my back to exaggerate our height difference. I feel him sigh on the back of my neck.  
"Look. Stop being awkward. I just- I wanted to say that I'm sorry for starting all this. For carrying you across the courtyard and screwing with you."  
"We're as bad as each other. But thanks."  
"So... when exactly did you become gay?"  
I roll my eyes. That's such a stupid question.  
"I didn't become gay. I've always been gay, I just had to discover it. That's like asking you when you became a Magician."  
"First Year. Mage dragged me all the way out here. Answer the question." Stern Snow is back, and I don't hate it, I wouldn't hate kissing him about now.  
"I don't owe you anything Snow, especially not about my sexuality."  
"I don't care. Tell me anyway, you stuck up git."

Okay so maybe I love stern Snow. There's this crisp edge to his words that isn't usually there. I sigh.

"About when you started having a thing for Wellbelove. I figured if the worst chosen one to ever be chosen could get a girlfriend then I definitely could. But the more I flirted with girls, the less comfortable it made me feel, it just didn't sit right. So I did some research and..." It turns out I'm in love with you, isn't the best way to end that sentence, so I give it no ending at all. I just sigh. It's not entirely fiction, it was about when Snow and Wellbelove got together that I came to terms with it. I'd assumed I had a thing for Wellbelove, but it turns out I was in love with her dumbass boyfriend. I still am, he's moved my head back so he can brush the top of my hair, and it feels strangely intimate.   
I really want to snuggle up to his chest again but the opportunity doesn't arise.  
"That's it? No big gay awakening? No coming of age montage?"

Well there was one time you came back soaking wet and I could see every muscle moving beneath your school shirt, and my chest got so tight that I thought I was going to faint, but that doesn't count.

"You're a twat." I spit. I don't usually use the word (too colloquial) but it seems the most appropriate right about now. He scoffs.  
"So are you. C'mon Bazzykins, there has to be someone you've got eyes for."  
Yes. You. You clueless heterosexual bastard.

Simon.

(Unfortunately) I know Baz well. This is the type of thing that will sit on his chest for months if he doesn't spit it out. The idea that he's told me the truth about how he feels, but not about who he's feeling it for, will weigh him down like a jacket full of sand. (I don't really know what that means, Penny's Dad just says it a lot.)  
"C'mon Bazzykins, there has to be someone you've got eyes for." I push onward. His mouth twists upwards slightly and I think he's going to tell me the truth, but he just spits out some bullshit (as usual).  
"Well. I couldn't exactly tell my apparent boyfriend that, could I? It'd ruin our relationship. We'd have to break up."  
"So? All the more reason to tell me. Who is it?"   
As fun as this charade with Baz has been (Yes. I'll admit it's been fun. It's always nice to be the subject of some rumours that aren't from the usual 'you're the chosen one Simon' file.), it has to find a conclusion. As long as the school thinks that we're dating then he's not going to get a boyfriend and I'm not going to get back together with Aggie... and I really don't want to miss Christmas dinner at her house just because it's awkward. Besides, I hate the bastard, but maybe having a boyfriend would actually cheer him up a little, he's a real downer like 89% of the time and I'm sick of talking to him when he's depressed. It's like talking to a moist sponge. Not even a warm moist sponge, but the kind that you only find on the floor when you've stepped on it and wet your sock.  
Yep.  
Soggy sock moist floor sponge Baz.  
That's him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Curly hair Baz >>> Every other Baz
> 
> (Might give him another appearance later on, depends where this thing goes.)
> 
> Also let me use y'all as my diary for a hot minute, my cousin told us she's Bi, which like, that's great but...
> 
> I'M THE GAY COUSIN
> 
> MY QUEER QUEEN CROWN IS BEING STOLEN FROM ME AFTER I EARNT IT IN LIKE 3RD YEAR/YEAR 9/8TH GRADE
> 
> We're gonna have to lipsync battle to sweater weather next Christmas to decide the fate of the Queer Queen crown, it's the only reasonable way to settle this. There can't be two cousins that get told 'Oh I had a gay phase when I was your age and I grew out of it don't worry' by every older relative... that's just weird.


	6. The Bridge is on Fire.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Y'know when one person just doesn't seem to leave your mind? They're always there in the background and always have been, even before you knew their name? That's the vibe behind this chapter. Also Baz is such a lovesick sweetie-pie, I adore him.

Penelope.

I think I've figured it out before they have, or at least, before Simon has. He's dating Baz, he has been for several months, he just doesn't realise it. It's all been one big joke to him, the pet names, the mealtimes, the cuddles. But that's not the type of thing you do with just anyone, and it certainly isn't the type of thing that you do with your worst enemy. A few years ago if he'd walked in on Baz crying he would've made fun of him and left, probably dragged me down to the library to scheme how he could use it against him. But their dynamic has changed since then, they're more of a dyad than a duo, more two cogs in a well oiled machine than the spanner in the works that they used to be.

They live with eachother, not despite one another, and I'm sure Simon must enjoy it.

"Si?" I speak up to get his attention as we wait for Magickal creature studies to start.  
"Hmm?"  
"How's Baz?"  
He shrugs and sets his books down.  
"Same old wet sponge."  
"Am I supposed to know what that means?"  
"No. Not really." He replies, sitting down at his desk and turning back to face me. I've been pushed diagonally and backwards since he stared sharing with Baz, but it doesn't even seem to faze him that he's twisting weirdly. "I think he's got a thing for someone, but I don't know who, and he won't tell me."

It's you Simon. You ignorant twerp. I ignore his stupidity and shrug.

"Could be anyone really... what's his type?"  
"Men." Simon laughs, then his face drops as the realisation hits him. He's just outed Baz to me (I know he's gay Simon, I can pick up on signals. He goes silent when you talk about how he needs a girlfriend, he doesn't get on well with his traditional family, and he gets incredibly flustered when you walk around shirtless.) "You absolutely cannot tell him I said that." He hisses, I roll my eyes.  
"Simon. The entire school thinks that you're dating, it's hardly a big shocker that one of you is gay."  
"Well. It wasn't going to be me." He mutters, breaking eye contact. "I dated Aggie, like really dated Aggie, I've never dated Baz."  
"Tell that to my pillowcase." Baz retorts, Simon just about pisses himself as his roommate sits down, turning to join in the conversation.  
"Wha- Where did you possibly come from?!"  
"As your roommate, and even as your apparent boyfriend, I am not going to explain that to you." He turns to me and smirks slightly, which is about as close to as smile as Baz gets. "Good morning Bunce. You look well rested."  
Simon's jaw drops, Baz has never complimented me before, and he almost looks jealous. I nod in acknowledgment as he turns back to his papers. Our Professor walks in (I won't even try to spell their name, it's in goblinese or something and they have a completely different alphabet), and writes something in the board in big letters.

VAMPIRE STUDIES: THE EPITOME OF EVIL AND DARKNESS

I can feel Baz's glare even though I'm sitting behind him. It slices through the three of us like a blade. Simon exhales and moves his left hand off the table. He and Baz have a whisper conversation but I don't try to make it out, I'm trying to find exactly where this fits in with our syllabus. (We were supposed to be studying Goblin financial demand today, but I guess someone, *cough cough*, Professor Goblin over here *cough cough* had other ideas.) I'm scribbling down notes a few minutes later when I see it out of the corner of my eye.  
Simon is holding Baz's hand within his own, rubbing his thumb along his roommates's knuckles as the Professor continues to bitch on about how lucky Baz is to have encountered vampires. He argues that witnessing his Mother's death didn't feel all that lucky, but our Professor has already moved on.

I corner Simon to ask him about it after class, Baz slips past us on his way to violin practice and scruffs up Simon's hair into a mess of curls, Simon glares at him.  
"Simon. Let me ask you something." I interrupt his gaze before it can follow Baz all the way down the corridor.  
"Oh jeez. What now."  
"What were you doing in class exactly?"  
"Uh... Vampire studies?"  
"Why were you holding Baz's hand?"  
"Because Professor was bitching about Vampires, I was being supportive." He reslung his backpack onto his back and shrugged. "I'm allowed to be supportive Penny."  
"But you've never been supportive before." I furrow my eyebrows and frown sympathetically at him. "Simon. I love you, so please tell me honestly... are you straight?"  
He chews the inside of his cheek and his expression softens a little, then he sighs.  
"I don't want to talk about this here, let's go somewhere private."

"I'd rather talk to my Aunties than my uncles at family parties." I raise my eyebrow, Simon gives me the stupidest look ever. "I'll just skip that one. I can never sit right in a chair."  
"False."  
"Simon." I look up from the computer, he's laying on the sofa opposite me in one of the library booths. They're about as private as places get in Watford where you can still get internet (for research, you have to spell them to use them for anything else). (The edge of the lawn is probably more private but there's nothing there.) Plus, you can spell them soundproof. "You're practically vertical."  
"So. I can sit normally, I just choose not to."  
I roll my eyes and click true.  
"I'm overly affectionate towards my friends and family, especially potential lovers."  
"False."  
"Cuddling Baz."  
"I wasn't cuddling him, I was comforting him, and he's not a potential lover. Click false."  
I ignore him and click true again.  
"Final question, a close friend comes out as gay, and it's suddenly really awkward between you. True or False?"  
Simon sighs and furrows his eyebrows.  
"I guess that one's true." He mutters, I nod and enter true again.  
"It says you're a closeted queer."  
"What? Let me see that?" He scrambles to his feet and sits beside me, practically pushing me off the sofa. "Penny. This really isn't accurate."  
"It's your data. 52% closeted queer."  
"It's a Buzzfeed quiz!"  
"That's more than half." I shrug, Simon groans and lays down on my knee, using my thigh as a pillow. "You're honestly telling me, with 100% legal conviction, that you have never looked at Baz and thought anything vaguely romantic?" His expression changes, his cheeks go red, I call him out on it. "Simon... don't make me truth spell you."  
"I just had a dream about him a few weeks back." He mutters, rolling over to avoid eye contact. "We're walking along the lawn, and he's holding my hand, then he sits down, settles his head into my shoulder, and lets out this almighty warm laugh. But that's it. That's the whole dream, just the handholding and the laugh."  
"Do you want that to be it? Or do you want more from him?"  
"I'm not in love with Baz, Penny. That's disgusting."  
"So if he walked over right now and kissed you there isn't the slightest part of you that would kiss back."  
"Not at all. You already know I'm straight." He closes his eyes and squishes his cheek against my thighs. He's trying to hide it, but I can tell he's desperately unhappy.  
"Simon." I sigh, twirling his hair in my fingertips affectionately. "You can like boys, or boys and girls, or absolutely every gender on the spectrum. It's okay."  
"I don't want to talk about this." He mutters, turning his face into my legs more, I sigh again, and nod.  
"Okay. I love you Si."  
"Yeah. I know."  
"And I'll love you no matter where this ends up, no matter who you end up with."  
"Yeah." He sighs deeply. "I know."

Baz.

He held my hand.  
I know it's not the first time that it's happened, he held it on my bunk and fumbled with my fingertips, but this was out in the open.  
He held my hand in class.  
Niall and Dev would have a field day with this, if they hadn't ditched me the moment the rumour came out. (There's a surprising amount of Homophobes in this school, but at least it's nice to get some 'I hate you because you're gay' stares instead of the usual 'I hate you because you're academically superior' stares. You can't be jealous of someone for being gay, that's not how it works.) (I did used to be jealous of Snow being straight though, not because I liked women, but because it seemed easier to explain to my Father.)  
I'd always figured that I'd cross to the 'Hey Dad, I'm gay' bridge when I came to it, if I came to it even, then Snow came along and broke the bridge.  
Then he set it on fire.  
Then he sunk it into the river.  
Then he set the river on fire too.  
Stupid pretty git,  
I'm staring at my hand as I practice violin now, and the idea of Snow holding it is making me mess up.

"Basilton?" My tutor puts her hand on my shoulder, I flinch. She's a kind, middle aged lady who drives a space grey Tesla Model S (Gorgeous!) and is here every second day of the week, I don't know where she lives, I don't bother asking. "Are you alright?"  
"I'm fine." I brush her off, using my resin as a distraction to break eye contact. It doesn't need redoing, I've barely played anything so far today because I keep messing up, but it's something to do. I loosen and retighten the hairs on my bow again too, muttering something about inconsistency in elasticity between the individual hairs, and how I can never get the tension just right. Then I straighten my posture, bring it to my chin, and go again.  
Don't think about Snow Don't think about Snow Don't think about Snow.  
Dammit.  
I'm thinking about Snow.  
I'm thinking about him brushing my hair and holding my hand, and about how he sleeps all tangled up in his blankets. I feel my cheeks get hot.  
"Perhaps we should give it a rest for today, evidently you have other things on your mind." She urges. "Go hang around with your boyfriend for a bit, calm yourself down."

Does everyone in the world know I'm gay? Was it plastered on the Eiffel tower when France woke up this morning? It it our new national flag? Maybe they've named a bug in Australia after it, the Tyrannusisgay beetle, it's only been recently discovered by the general public but can commonly be found hiding in people's closets...

"How do you possibly know about that?" I frown, straightening my posture again. Chopin Nocturne in C Sharp Minor, practically child's play when you've been performing as long as I have. If it weren't for Snow lingering in my brain like the Devil's shadow then it'd just be practice.

"It was in the newsletter." She replies, coyly beginning to accompany me on the Piano. It's not as good as our Piano back in Hampshire, the notes sound flat and echo strangely. Normally I hate it, but right now I'm too focused on Snow.

"Good to know Watford is so invested in my love life." I spit, gritting my teeth as I'm unable to move my chin, my wrist vibrato makes my voice wobble. I normally don't talk while I'm playing, but now it's out in the open I have to address it. "He isn't my boyfriend, it's just a rumour that's gone around because everyone's bored. It's almost summer, there's nothing to do." My bow slips from my sweaty palm and I mess up, then I stop and sigh.

It's almost summer.

Whether or not we officially break up, this will all have blown over by the time we come back to school. I have to relish in it now.

I close my eyes and start again, but this time, I don't focus on the sheet music in front of me, I just think about Simon. About his hands and the way he held mine, about his chest and how comfortable it is, the way his heartbeat never falters, it's always there and always strong, and about his face...

Every freckle, every blemish, even that tiny scar under his chin, I'd kiss them all if he let me.

How I long to feel him smile as I push our lips together, and run my hands through his stupid curly hair. How badly I want to love him, not just be in love with him.

"Basilton." My tutor interrupts me, my eyes snap open and I wonder how long I've been playing for. I stare at her solemnly but she seems almost impressed. "That was the smoothest that I've ever heard you play, all of your vibratos were steady, and you moved with the music instead of sitting through it."

"Oh." I reply dumbly. "Thank you."

"Mmm-hmm. That boyfriend of yours is a good luck charm."

She's the second person to have said that.

I think I'm beginning to believe it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it obvious I'm a violinist?
> 
> I recently got a new violin actually (spoiler alert: It's beautiful) but the resin is so hard to open. It came with this lil tiny block of it (for the bow, duh) in a lil tin but I cannot get it open for the life of me. I think I opened it once on Christmas day, then accidentally said something that offended it's great resin ancestors, and now it'll never open again.
> 
> Not for me.  
> Or my Son,  
> Or my Son's Son,  
> and the violin will probably be destroyed by the time my Son's Son's son gets to have a go.
> 
> (Or Daughter, or NB baby, depends how the cookie crumbles I guess.)


	7. Bad things happening to Snow, and Hamsters, but that's it.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's an invitation at the door...
> 
> and it sure as hell isn't for Baz.

Simon.

I think that I might be losing my mind.

Baz came into our room earlier, after his violin practice, and he actually looked happy. Not just Baz happy, but like, actually happy. He isn't smiling, but his eyes don't look as miserable as they usually do.

"You just turn someone? What's with the spring in your step?" I scowl, but he just rolls his eyes and shrugs. He doesn't scowl back, or even sneer, he just shrugs. It's annoying, but also sort of nice to see.

"Good practice." He replies bluntly, picking up that same leather bound copy of Great Expectations and burying his nose into it. He's thinking about something, but not in his usual plotting manner, it's more than that.

The invite arrives at our door a few days later while he's out (doing God knows what).

_'You are cordially invited to the Sweethearts Ball. 7-10. Saturday 21st of June. Watford school of Magicks.'_

Typical. Baz gets invited to a ball on my birthday. I know it's not his fault, but I still mutter that he's an inconsiderate bastard as I throw it onto his side of the room, then I leave to go Penny hunting. (Which I seem to do a lot of nowadays, she's never where you expect her to be.)

When I return with her a few hours later Baz still isn't there, but it's been moved back to my side of the room, more specifically, onto my pillow. Penny tells me that sometimes Magickal post does that, always finds it's way back to it's correct owner, _but I know that isn't the case here_. Baz has opened it, read it, then moved it onto my pillow, so apparently it is for me. There's still no name though, I don't know who it's from.

"Do you think it's from Aggie? She could be trying to get back together." I pass it to Penny but she just shrugs.

"I think, she thinks, that you're dating Baz."

"I'm not dating Baz." I groan, laying back on my bed. "I don't want to be dating Baz, he takes an hour in the bathroom each morning. Plus, he's a stuck up little weasel."

"Weasel?"

"Yeah. One of those things that looks like a rat on steroids."

"I always thought they were kind of cute... weasels, not Baz."

"I should ask him about this." I mutter, holding the invite to my face again. "If he knows it's for me, then he has to know who it's from."

Baz.

Alistair Crowley, Snow is so thick.

I knew he wasn't academically gifted, or particularly graceful, but I'd always assumed he must have some common sense.

I was wrong. This proved it. _He has the common sense of a turnip._

That idiot boy couldn't even recognise my handwriting, he moved my own invite back to my side of the room.

At first I'd assumed it was a rejection, but I didn't really ask him, I just told him to come, and he probably would've thrown it into the bin if he'd intended to reject it. (Or at least on the floor, his aim was never very good.) I automatically put it back on his pillow (take a hint turnip boy!), then venture off to the library to do some personal research. He's sneaking up behind me now, expecting to scare me, it isn't going to work.

"Baz!" He blurts, putting both his hands down on my shoulders and peering over my head. I don't even turn my face to look up at him. (I do close my book though, that's none of his business.) (Yours neither, stop being nosey.) "How did you possibly not flinch?!"

"I'm dead." I reply, continuing to make notes. "Very few things scare me at this point."

(Pretty much just the idea of losing him, hurting him, or turning him.) (Oh, _and hamsters_ , I don't like their weird little feet.) (But that's it, bad things happening to Snow and hamsters.)

Snow rolls his eyes and sits down on the desk, laying across my research. (Overdramatic much?) I sigh and actually look at him. "What do you want?"

"Jeez. Pretty hostile towards your boyfriend." For a minute I think he's caught on, then he carries on talking and proves that he's still absolutely thick. "You moved the invite to my side of the room."

"I did. It's for you."

"Who's it from?"

I roll my eyes and shake my head, ignoring him as I gather my stationery. He whines like a puppy.

"Baaaaazzzzzz! Just tell meeeeee! Was it Aggie? Is she trying to get back together?"

"I don't care for your love-life Snow." I reply bluntly, tugging a book out from under his thigh. "I already got my invite, and I don't give two flutes nor a damn who sent yours."

I'm lying. I don't even have an invite, I'm the one who invited him for Crowley's sake. I begin to stand up but he grabs my shirt and pulls me back down, I scowl at him and pretend my heart isn't racing. "What?"

"Who's yours from?"

"None of your business." I try to stand up again, he pulls me back down again and lowers his voice, smiling cheekily.

"Is it a boy? Him? Your mystery crush?"

"I don't have a mystery crush Snow." I fold my arms boredly, he's still laying on the antique wood without a care in the world. He'd be distracting everyone if he wasn't always pulling shit like this. (Seriously, always, I've seen that boy try to cartwheel down the corridor.) (He can't do a cartwheel.) (They still haven't replaced the wall.) "Get off my desk."

"Bazzy's got a boyyyyyfriennndddd..."

"Yes. I do." I stand up and force his grip away, swinging my bag onto my shoulder and walking away. He scrambles off the desk and trails after me.

"Wait? Really? Who???" He grabs at my sleeve, stopping me again. "Bazzzzzzzz?"

"You." I reply flatly, a smirk on my face as I tilt his chin up so our eyes can meet, curl my lip a little, then continue walking. I can practically hear him roll his eyes, but I'm not giving him any answers.

I want at least a slight opportunity to see him in a suit, or literally anything other than his uniform, there's no shame in that.

Simon.

It's Aggie. It has to be. Baz knows it, and he's just being an annoying bastard about it. No one else in this school has ever liked me, not like that, they see me as a bad luck charm. That must be what they were talking about on the great lawn the other day, he was explaining the whole scenario to her. It just makes sense.

I stop her in the corridor and she smiles at me, she's so pretty when she smiles, her teeth are so perfect and her hair is so... long.

"Oh. Agatha!" I grab her arm, I don't mean to use her full name, but she doesn't seem to mind. "Can we talk?"

"Simon." She smiles, leaning against the wall. "Of course."

"Oh. Um. I got an invite to the Sweetheart's ball this morning..."

Her smile widens.

"You don't even have to ask me Simon, you know I don't mind."

"Really?" I'm not sure why I sound so surprised. I knew it was her all along. "I- I'll be there at 7..."

"Are you sure? The ball starts at half past." She frowns up at me. "You're cutting it a little short."

"Well... it's only down the corridor... I'm fairly sure that we'll make it on time."

"You'll need more than half an hour to get ready Simon, you're a walking disaster." She smiles gently. "I've still got your suit from my cousin's wedding in my wardrobe I think, and obviously you'd normally match it to your date's dress... but you can match your tie."

"I-I don't know what colour they're wearing..." I intend to say you're, not they're, but I stumble over my words. (Blame it on Aggie looking so pretty, the golden sunlight in her hair is just... well... golden...)

"Then keep it neutral. Plum looks good with most common formal wear colours, and it looks good on you for that matter." She smiles up at me again (so pretty!). "Come to my room at 6, Simon, it gives me time to wrangle your hair." She strokes my face affectionately and I nod, hoping that 'wrangling your hair' is Aggie for 'lots and lots of kisses'...

_Or at least an un-break up._

I let her go, then catch Penny the other way, plucking a familiar looking invite out of her pocket, waving it in her face and reading it.

"Oooh! _Penelope Bunce, you are cordially invited to the Sweethea_ -" I pause and frown at it. "This is your handwriting."

"I invited myself." Penny agrees with me. "If you're going then I'm going, and it's not like Micah can ask me."

"I don't think you're supposed to do that."

"There's no rules against it." She shrugs. "It's just creative thinking."

"The amount of times that you 'think creatively' is an ever-growing concern."

"I know." She gestures outside. "Come on, let's go watch the game."

"There's a game on tonight? Why didn't Baz tell me?" I try my best not to sound disheartened. (I don't do very well.) Penny raises an eyebrow at me.

"He doesn't have to tell you about every game Simon, he's not your personal noticeboard." She shrugs again. "Maybe he's over this whole dating thing and he doesn't want you to come."

That hurts. I want him to invite me to every game, and every practice for that matter, I want to see the team play. (The seats in the family box are really good, and when Baz is playing then Watford is at the top of our game.) I want to see our team win and celebrate the victory, it's not like I'm just going to see him.

"Well, then let's go anyway." I nod. "Just to piss him off."

Penny rolls her eyes and nods, guiding me out the door.

(She always walks remarkably fast for someone who's legs are so short, half the time I have to jog to keep up with her.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is a little shorter than the others, my apologies for that, class is crazy at the moment. (I was informed that I'd completely failed a 15 hour assignment earlier... so that's fun...)
> 
> Also fun fact, Hamster feet were a genuine fear I had as a child.  
> I didn't like their tiny hands.


	8. Pitchy's kissing the pitch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Football's always great... as long as you don't witness your lover fail on an astronomical level.
> 
> (TW: I describe an injury, it's not bad or bl**dy or anything, but if that's going to upset you then feel free to skip :D )

**Baz.**

He's watching me. He's in the bloody family box again, and Bunce is with him.

_I'd recognise those golden curls anywhere._

I try to shut him out and just play, but he's there, he's stealing my thoughts away like they're his, and I'm only trying to warm up. I just have to talk to him, I just have to hear that he's here for the football, not me.

I just have to be reminded that he's not really mine.

Maybe that's why I've left the rest of the team to run over to him, trying my hardest to smirk, not smile. He sees me and stands up, practically running down the stairs to the barrier and leaning over it.

"You didn't tell me there was a game today." He frowns like he's pouting, his bottom lip sticks out a little, it's all pink and shiny (he's got a strange obsession with lip-balm, I blame Wellbelove), I force down the urge to kiss it and stare at his eyes instead.

"I wasn't aware you're so invested in our apparent relationship that you need to stare at me 24/7. Though I don't blame you." I retort.

"Piss off. I don't like _you_ , Baz, I like football." He replies.

_Scratch that plan, I still desperately want to kiss him._ I shrug instead.

"I didn't think you'd be interested. Is Bunce with you?" I know she is, I just don't want the conversation to be over yet, Snow nods and gestures her over. She walks with this strange confidence as she makes her way down the stairs, as though she already knows what I'm going to ask her.

Actually, judging by the hair ties on her wrist, I don't even have to ask. I nod in acknowledgement as soon as she's close enough to see. "Bunce."

"Basilton." She replies. "Turn around."

I do, but Snow keeps talking to me.

"Why wouldn't you think I'd be interested? I like football."

"Do you? I wasn't aware." I reply coolly, I can't see him, but I just know he's folded his arms and his cheeks are going pink in frustration. "I assumed the only thing you liked was cocking up simple magic."

"I like football." He replies defensively. "I really like football, you might even say I _love_ football."

"You'd better marry a footballer then." I reply, quickly adding onto my sentence so it sounds less like I just insinuated that he'd better marry me. (I wouldn't object though. _Not at all._ ) "There's plenty of women's football teams out there, I'm sure someone would be sucker enough to date you... then again maybe not, I think you do have to have the intelligence to kick a ball around... maybe you should _love_ vaping. That's a chavvy normal thing, right?"

I leave him with that, he's fuming, I can tell, but I'm not giving him the pleasure of acknowledgement. I hear Bunce laughing as I walk away.

"Stop pouting Si." She teases. "He's just messing with you."

**Penelope.**

Simon watches Baz for the entire game (no surprise there), but he still seems grumpy. He seems to have forgotten that they're still enemies, and an exchange of insults between them isn't unusual. He's just pouting with his arms folded as he watches every one of Baz's muscles move under his shirt. He scores, and Simon tries to hide his smile, but he doesn't do it very well and it seeps through onto his pouting expression. I roll my eyes and scoff.

"What?" He asks, defensively, I shrug.

"You. Watching Baz. Smiling at him."

"I'm not smiling at him, I'm smiling despite of him, it's a good game." He folds his arms again and sits back, I shake my head and decide not to push onwards. This isn't the time nor the place, and besides, he's distracted, Baz is about to score again.

Or he would've, if he hadn't have just stumbled on his own feet and landed face down. I think it's the least graceful thing that I've ever seen Baz do, I can't help but laugh.

"Oops. Pitchy's kissing the pitch." I mock, Simon doesn't laugh, he's just staring. He looks like he's going to throw up.

"Why isn't he getting up?" He utters, quietly, as though he's afraid. "Why aren't they stopping the game?"

"He's just being overdramatic Si, you know what he's like." Baz is kind of awkwardly curled up on the grass, so we can really only see his back. He's holding his knees to his chest, as though he's trying to hide himself from his humiliation. "He probably can't stand the embarrassme-"

"No." Simon interrupts me, and I'll admit, I'm surprised. " I think he's hurt."

"He can walk it off."

"No. He's really hurt." He stands up in his seat, trying to get a better look. "They need to stop the game."

"He'll be fine Si, he's been doing this for years." I try to reassure him, but his face is so worry-stricken, and he completely ignores me as he climbs over the empty seats and into the aisle.

Then he's gone, sprinting like an absolute fucking idiot, down the stairs and over the barrier. He lands with a thud but stumbles to his feet again and carries on running. He looks like a bloody sore thumb amongst the players, all in their pristine kit, running through the game in his worn out uniform. (I've offered to spell it for him several times now, he says it makes him look rustic, but honestly, I think he just knows that he'll tatter it up again and doesn't want to waste magic.) The crowd has quietened down now as he approaches Baz, skidding to his knees, that'll ruin his trousers, but he doesn't seem to care as he crouches over the fallen boy.

Part of me expects Baz to slap him for ruining a perfectly good game, but he doesn't, he doesn't even lift his head up. I sigh and trail after them, taking the actual entrance to the pitch, not throwing myself over the barrier.

**Simon.**

The closer I get to Baz, the more I'm sure that he's dead, it's a massive relief to see him breathing.

_But he looks like shit._

His face is pale (paler than usual, practically grey), he's clutching his knee with his eyes closed and his eyebrows furrowed. I skid to my knees to address him.

"Baz. Baz what's wrong?" I put my hand on his shoulder, he lashes out at me, I wonder how long it's been since he was last in pain for his first response to be anger.

"GET OFF ME!" He snaps, I don't withdraw my hand. "LEAVE ME ALONE."

He hasn't opened his eyes yet, it's like he doesn't even recognise me.

"Baz. It's me. Simon. You know me." I push him on again. "What's wrong? Where does it hurt?"

That's such a juvenile question to ask, but it seems to work, he lets out a tiny shaky breath and whispers.

"My knee. _I think I've dislocated my knee_." His voice is shaking uncontrollably as he tries not to cry. I don't know why, I've seen him cry before, and it's not like his teammates will see.

Yes. Yes they will. Literally everyone is staring at us.

I sigh and turn my attention back to Baz, acting as if I know first aid. "Can you move it?"

"No you twat. It's dislocated." He replies, I furrow my eyebrows in frustration.

"Well... can you try? Just so I can take a look?" He begins to remove his hand, then groans in pain and puts it back, furrowing his eyebrows more. (It's like a bloody frowning competition. Even Penny looks unhappy as she approaches with Coach.)

"Pitch. What's wrong?" He barks, his tone is stern, and I know that Baz won't respond, so I answer for him.

"He... um... he thinks he's dislocated his knee... coach..." I don't know what to address him as, technically he's just _the_ coach, but he's not _my_ coach, so should I use his first name or something? He gives me a look that could only be described as _'How the living fuck did Pitch agree to date you? You're a full bucket of sea-glass, beautiful, but completely bloody useless.'_ and grabs Baz by the shoulders, forcing him to sit upright, he groans in pain again, louder this time. "Be gentle with him!" I blurt, Penny gives me a weird look.

(To be fair, _I'd give myself_ a weird look for that, _I don't know where it came from._ )

I don't have time to explain my actions, I've slung Baz' arm around my shoulders and I'm pulling him upwards, putting all his weight on me so that he can walk. I expect the crowd to cheer like I'm the hero in a coming of age movie, but they don't, they remain quiet as I practically drag Baz off to the side.

**Baz.**

I don't really remember what happened apart from becoming lightheaded, and feeling like I was falling; I think my brain must've gone into shock. (Which is a shame, because my kit smells like Snow, so evidently he was close to me at some point. I hope he at least kissed me.)

(No I don't, I wouldn't want to miss it.)

He's sitting in this damn Nurses' wing beside me now, with literally the stupidest expression on his face as he stares at my knee. Bunce is sitting beside him, they're sharing a chair. (Which is also a shame, because I might've asked him to kiss it better if she weren't, probably not, but there was a chance.)

My knee in question looks absolutely vile; all malformed and bruised, various shades of black, blue, yellow, and purple. It doesn't even match the rest of my skin, it looks like some kind of weird growth where my normal joint should've been. They've cut my trousers off so they can see it better, and right now there's literally just a blanket protecting my modesty _(and underwear, obviously, I'm not a heathen.)_ I know that they're planning to put it back in, and that they're planning to surprise me with it so I can't resist, but they don't know that I can hear them talking down the corridor.

Coach walks into the room and leans against the wall beside Snow and Bunce, then begins asking me how it happened. I know he's trying to distract me, but I answer anyway. A nurse enters (One of many, that's one of the few perks of having multiple species at Watford, there's multiple nurses with multiple specialities. Not vampires though, I'm a bit of an oddity in that aspect.) and reaches for my knee, but I turn and grab their wrist before they can even touch my skin, snarling.

"No."

"They have to put it back in Baz, we can't heal you until it's back in." Bunce complains, _as if I don't know that._ It doesn't make me any more willing to let go of the Nurse's wrist.

"No." I snap again.

"Baz." Snow sighs, as though him just saying my name is going to rid me of all algophobia, as if he's magic. He is, _but not in that way,_ not like some kind of childish superhero.

I don't give him the pleasure of even a glance.

"Fuck off Snowflake. This has nothing to do with you."

"Baz." He tries again. "Look at me."

I do, faking reluctance, as if to melt into those gorgeous blue eyes isn't exactly what I need right now. They're looking at me with such worry, I have to stop myself from dropping my guard. His hand is outstretched, I sneer at him.

"I'm not holding your hand Snow."

"Why not?"

"Because _that's gay._ "

"So?" He doesn't really give me the option, he's already playing with my fingertips, I sigh and interlace our fingers, he glances over at my other hand, offering his. "And the other."

Holding his hands means letting the Nurse touch me, and I'm not exactly thrilled at the idea. If it were anyone else I'd tell them to piss off and let go.

But it's not anyone else, it's Simon Snow.

It's fucking beautiful Simon Snow, with his golden curls and his bright blue eyes.

I slowly move my other hand into his and he smiles encouragingly. _That smile_ , there's a moment of serenity here, and I could relish in it for the rest of my life. I'm sure that my face must look both stupid, and lovestruck, as hell, but I don't care.

His expression is so gentle and caring. I don't even know the last time someone looked at me like that.

_Could..?_

_Could Simon Snow like me?_

No. Of course not. He's just a beautiful twat and I'm just a lovesick idiot who obsesses over his every affection.

This isn't even affection, _it's distraction_ , and the forcing of my kneecap back in shoots me into reality.

_Fuck._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recently found an unpublished Carry On fanfiction in my notes...
> 
> FROM 2016...
> 
> AND I MAKE THE BLACK PUDDING JOKE. 
> 
> APPARENTLY I'VE JUST BEEN RIPPING OFF 12 YEAR OLD ME THIS ENTIRE TIME.

**Author's Note:**

> Woweee I haven't published anything on here in so long. My other account got deleted :/, I'm still not really sure why but I think it was hacked. So, I'll be reposting as much of my old content on here that I have copies of. For now, here's some new stuff.


End file.
